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theory about loving your own writing: 1. people who are selfish narcissists are known to be self-obsessed and say that they love their work 2. most people would prefer not to be seen as selfish narcissists 3. most people try to avoid saying things like "I love my writing"
4. people often throw the baby out with the bathwater here. because you're afraid of being a narcissist, and you're afraid of saying "I love my writing", a part of you actually avoids developing any sort of feelings to/for your own writing your writing sucks as a consequence
4-7 is where the magic happens https://t.co/6fjJ3KH47I
people are afraid to go to 7-10 and so they stay in 1-4 1-4 is tedious and boring sometimes it's worth going to 8 to get burnt sometimes, better IMO than staying in 1-4 [all of this assumes you're a maker to begin with]
from Ray Bradbury's Zen In The Art Of Writing: "If you are writing without zest, without gusto, without love, without fun, you are only half a writer. [...] you are not being yourself. You don't even know yourself." https://t.co/Py63VBe194
I don't think any serious writer loves ALL their writing. Obviously. I think it is known that most serious writers are *underwhelmed* by most of what they write, because their taste is so demanding. But when you DO make something you love, LOVE IT. Your taste demands it!
Your taste is what got you into the game. You liked reading words, or listening to sounds, or looking at pictures. You liked some things more than other things. Every creator starts out as an ardent fan. The front row of any concert always full of musicians-in-the-making
Over time, you start making things yourself. You're compelled to do it because you have a vision, however vague, of something that should exist. Making things is TEDIOUS and PAINFUL and HARD. But you do it because YOU want to read the book! See the picture! Hear the song!
You already love the game. Words, music, paint, whatever your poison. You know it. You got involved because you love the game. You go through the struggle of creation, the heartbreak of rejection, ridicule, dismissal — and you pick yourself back up... because you love the game.
If you love the game. you do the endless reading you write and discard draft after draft you dig into the research, following up on the footnotes you do the editing and reworking you chase the horizon of perfection then it necessarily follows ... you will make work you love
the love isn't a blind, thoughtless, blanket love the love is a careful, considered, nuanced love it's the love of having counted the characters it's the love of rolling each and every word around in your mouth it's the love that KNOWS, that when it's GOOD, it's GOOD
Knowing what's good doesn't *entitle* you to anything. You are not the artist. You are the custodian. You are the janitor picking up after the wild, reckless mind rattling in your skull. Respecting the work means treating people with kindness. It means listening, paying attention
this thread is to say, to those waiting for someone to say it... throw yourself into the oncoming train that is your heart explode into a million pieces of color and light be bigger, so much bigger than you thought possible, ~angry~ and ~loud~ and yet also: kind, soft, sweet